Out of Time
by wisher93
Summary: We didn't know know it was coming. The day started just like any other. Normally the biggest threat to our life is a gun, maybe a bomb, another person. But this? How do you prepare for something so outside your control?
1. Panic

We didn't know know it was coming. The day started just like any other. Normally the biggest threat to our life is a gun, maybe a bomb, another person. But this threat? We were so unprepared for what Mother Nature would send our way. How do you prepare for something like this?

XxXxXxX

Things are dark when I open my eyes, but I know that's a mistake because it should be just after two in the afternoon. Everything is so quiet, too quiet really, and I can't quite figure out why I'm laying on my back. My right arm comes up to my face to investigate a shark pain in my temple and it comes away slick and coated in my blood and dust.

My eyes begin to adjust as the sun filters through small cracks around me, and I see debris everywhere: pieces of walls, ceiling, cement, furniture, odd and ends. My throat is coated in dust and my lungs must be, too, because I suddenly realize I'm having a hard time breathing. I sit up just enough that I am leaning on my elbows, not able to move my neck too much without my vision going dark around the edges as pain shoots through my neck, back and arms. I see a bookshelf is laying across my legs semi-pinning me down.

My ears begin to ring, starting very quiet, but getting louder and louder until I need to press both hands to my ears. I realize it's not coming from outside, but is a response from my body to what is happening, from the loud crash that occurred just moments ago. Pieces start to come back and I realize what had happened: an earthquake. More than one. It must have been a bad one. I remember a nearby explosion shortly after the earthquakes ended probably as a result of damage that had occurred.

"Maggie?" I force myself to ask despite not being able to get a good breath. I cough a few times and call out louder. "Mags?"

I don't hear a response and start to worry. If I remember correctly, she was just in front of me when it all happened. I force myself to sit up all the way. In front of me, where Maggie should have been the floor is gone, collapsed, though I can't tell how far down from where I am. All I know is we are on the twelfth floor of a high rise. And that's a long way down.

"MAGGIE!"

Two hours earlier-

"Let's just finish this interview and go from there," Maggie says trying to convince me, though _I_ think we've hit a dead end. I'm not sure what _she_ thinks we've missed, but all the suspects of our current case either have alibis or are just pictures from an apartment building that anyone could have been in. It's noon and I think eating lunch is a better way to spend our time than interviewing the one last guy who showed up on film.

I give her the look, but she shrugs it off like she always does when she thinks she's right. Unfortunately for me, she usually is. Finally I nod and she smirks before pulling open the large glass door to the high rise and holding it for me.

"Ladies first," she says teasing, but I ignore her with just the smallest of smiles playing on my lips.

It's more than five minutes before the secretary even gives us a glance while on the phone with someone who sounds important, but I grow tired of the cold shoulder and flash my badge. That gets her attention quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she starts, seeming nervous. "How can I help you?"

"We need to speak with Alexander Jones," Maggie says no nonsense.

"He is out to lunch. Can I take a message?"

"No, we need to speak to him as soon as possible. Do you know where he eats?" I ask.

The secretary shakes her head, though I'm not completely convinced.

"We'll wait," Maggie announces.

As we walk away, the secretary picks up the phone again and I hear her say his name. By the way Maggie looks at me, she hears it to.

"A friendly heads up or a warning?" she muses aloud.

Maybe there is something going on here after all. I can't help but roll my eyes because I can already hear her 'I told you so,' and picture the look she'll have on her face if she's right.

By one I'm tired of waiting, all out of patience. Maggie and I make eye contact, stand and march to the front desk in sync. I notice her name is Samantha.

"Where is Mr. Jones' office? We'll wait there," I say, effectively announcing that I'm not in the mood to play games with just my tone of voice.

"Oh, well... that's not really necessary, is it? You could just try again tomorrow?" she asks shyly. That's when I realize that we've maybe just been played.

"What floor?" I demand again narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips.

"Twelve," she says quietly, eyes slightly wider than before.

I take off toward the elevator and Maggie is hot on my heels.

We arrive on the twelfth floor to a similar waiting room with yet another secretary, but I know we are in the right place because a plaque on the wall announces we've arrived at Lance and Jones Law Office.

Either the secretaries have been in contact, or she just knows she can't hide the fact that Jones is in since we can see him sitting at his desk from the entrance, but she removes herself from behind the desk and motions for us to follow saying, "Right this way, please." She knocks on the open door to get his attention, and Jones smiles at us.

"How can I help you today, Agents?" he asks calmly.

"Do you know Rachel Whitaker?" Maggie questions.

Jones pauses as if In thought before shaking his head.

"No, I don't think so. Should I?"

Are you familiar with the apartment building of the corner of Lexington and 56th street?" she tries again.

"I'm not sure what you are getting at." Jones is trying to act annoyed, but he's a terrible liar.

"Answer the question," I push.

"I'm not... no."

"Interesting," Maggie counters. "Isn't this you in that apartment building just days ago?" She holds out a security camera photo.

I think maybe we've caught him his as the murderer of Rachel and is going to confess on nothing more than a photograph and our good luck, but his hand goes for a desk drawer and in the amount of time it takes him to grab a gun, we both have ours out and pointed at his chest.

"Think about this," Maggie says cool and collected. "Don't do something you can't undo."

"It's too late," Jones says shaking his head. He has a crazed look in his eyes and I know nothing Maggie says will make a difference. I'm about to call it and take the shot before he can pull the trigger, but the room begins to shake, the floor under our feet begins to sway, and the building groans around us.

I know exactly what is happening. I hear a few distant screams as the shaking gets worse and the groaning gets louder. Things begin to crash to the floor and the whole world seems to just go to hell.

Jones, gun dropped and forgotten, lunges toward the door. Maggie is closer to him and jumps on him, taking him down. I try to get in there, but the shaking only grows making it hard to keep my balance. I fall forward and hit my knees and wrists hard, but continue to fight forward trying to help. I see Maggie get a good kick to the jaw as Jones crawls out of her grasp, but she manages to stay on him and get a better hold.

Suddenly a loud crackling noise and boom fills every part of me, reverberating through my head and chest before something hits me in the head.

XxXxXxX

Things are dark when I open my eyes, but I know that's a mistake because it should be just after two in the afternoon. Everything is so quiet, too quiet really, and I can't quite figure out why I'm laying on my back. My right arm comes up to my face to investigate a shark pain in my temple and it comes away slick and coated in my blood and dust.

My eyes begin to adjust as the sun filtering through small cracks around me, and I see debris everywhere: pieces of walls, ceiling, cement, furniture, odd and ends. My throat is coated in dust and my lungs must be, too, because I suddenly realize I am having a hard time breathing. I sit up just enough that I am leaning on my elbows, not able to move my neck too much without my vision going dark around the edges as pain shoots through my neck, back and arms. I see a bookshelf is laying across my legs semi-pinning me down.

My ears begin to ring, starting very quiet, but getting louder and louder until I need to press both hands over my ears. I realize it's not coming from outside, but is a response from my body to what is happening. Pieces start to come back and I realize what had happened: an earthquake. It must have been a bad. I remember a nearby explosion shortly after the earthquake ended probably as a result of damage that had occurred.

"Maggie?" I force myself to ask despite being able to get a good breath. I cough a few times and call out louder. "Mags?"

I don't hear a response and start to worry. If I remember correctly, she was just in front of me when it all happened, tackling Alexander Jones. I force myself to sit up all the way. In front of me, where Maggie should have been the floor collapsed, though I can't tell how deep from here. All I know is we are on the twelfth floor of a high rise downtown. And twelve floors would be a long way to fall.

"MAGGIE!"

The bookshelf across my legs needs to go. Now. I brace myself against it and push to get it off my legs. The part of my right leg that was pinned between the bookshelf and some rubble is bleeding and looks pretty bad, though I don't feel as much pain as I know I should. Adrenaline, I guess.

I pull myself to my knees slowly. The ringing in my ears continues, but other noises are filtering through, though they sound like I'm underwater. I crawl to the large hole in the floor where Maggie used to be and look down. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or terrified when I don't see anything. Maybe both. It's just a lot of rubble and debris, too dark to make out any real details. But I do know if she's down there, she's either hidden, already moved, or covered.

"Maggie!" I shout again. Nothing. No sign of Jones either. I pull out my phone, but am not surprised to see there is no service. The earthquake probably took out all service downtown. Maybe further.

I need to get down there, to see if I can find her, but I know the elevator is out of the question. The stairs are probably close to where the elevator is, so I push myself to my feet and head, slowly, in that direction.

In the two hundred meters or so it takes to get to the elevator, I come across five people in two separate groups. Three will finish today with only mental scars, one appears to have a broken arm from falling, and one has a bad gash across her face. After checking in with them, I continue toward the elevator. One of the five told me how to get to the stairs, but it takes me almost ten minutes to get there with all the furniture and debris in the way.

I have to really shove on the door a few times to get it to open once I find it, and I'm thankful I'm not going up because it's completely blocked about halfway up the staircase. I head down the stairs carefully, but stop as an aftershock vibrates through the building. I feel a little panic at the intense swaying in the building and hear more crashing and breaking from the building around me.

As the floor stills, I continue my descent to the 11th floor. I push the door open and immediately freeze because there in front of me is a huge pile of cement and ceiling. I see a hand reaching out from the pile unmoving. I feel for a pulse, but know there couldn't possibly be one. I wish I was wrong, but I'm not.

The only positive I can think of is that the woman has painted nails. It's not Maggie. I still can't help but wonder about all the people who will miss her.

I continue in the direction of whatever is directly under Jones' office. I don't see anyone else, dead or alive, and am wishing I had some company. The adrenaline is wearing off and my body aches all over. The pain in my head is growing by the moment, and I'm not able to put my full weight on my leg without nearly collapsing.

"Maggie? Can you hear me?" I call out as I approach the location I'm looking for. It's a complete mess. The closer I get, the harder it is to continue forward as I slide between, over, under pieces of the building.

"Mags! Maggie?"

I'm about to start panicking again, not sure what else to do to find her. I start to pick up and move anything I can get my hands on, though it feels like I'm not making any progress. I know I'm dangerously close to losing my mind.

"Damn it, Maggie, where are you?" I'm nearly screaming. I lean against an intact wall to catch my breath when I hear it. The slightest moan, so quiet, I'm not sure how I heard it. But I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Maggie! I hear you! Where are you?"

It's quiet again, and I hold my breath, wondering if maybe I made it up, if I was so desperate to hear her that I convinced myself I did. But then I hear her again.

"OA," she moans.

"Keep making noise! I'm coming."

I start clearing a path in her direction, pausing every now and then to listen to where she might be. I know she's hurt because she hasn't cracked a joke about being stuck and she is still so quiet even with how much closer I am. I must have cleared three layers and moved forward a couple meters, but still she can hardly speak.

I get to a large section of the twelfth floor that is still partially connected above us, but it's long and spreads from wall to wall sectioning off a small part of one corner of the room leaving maybe a two by one meter area. There are little cracks that allow me to peek in, but it's too dark to see much.

"Maggie, are you doing okay? I'm close."

It takes her a minute to respond and from here I can tell how hard she is working to breath. I wonder if she bruised or broke a few ribs.

"It's not good," she manages shakily as I grab my phone out of my pocket again to use as a flashlight.

"I know, but it's okay. I'll have you out of there soon, alright?"

I switch the light on and hold it up to a crack in the barrier between us. It shines on her feet and I move the light up checking for injuries. As I get to her stomach I gasp. Because Maggie didn't only fall ten feet and get trapped behind a cement barrier I can't move. She landed on a steel pipe which has impaled her side just below her rib cage.

AN: Well, that happened. This story started off so different, but I'm glad I went with it because it is so interesting to think about these two trying to survive a situation caused by weather and bad luck instead of other people (and offen more bad luck). Let me know what you think about this unique kind of danger. I'll try to have the next part out by Wednesday depending on how things go. I don't anticipate this being a long one, maybe just two more chapters, but we'll see! Thanks for reading!


	2. Promises

Maggie-

I don't know what's going on, don't know where I am or why it's so dark, but the one thing I am sure of: something is wrong. I can't breath very well and the pain I feel is unlike anything I've ever experienced prior.

I lay on my back unmoving as I will my lungs to work, and blink through what must be layers of dust and dirt in my eyes. I faintly hear someone calling out to me, hear someone shouting my name. The voice is familiar and at first I think it is Jason. The voice shouts again, sounding increasingly desperate, and I realize it's OA. Of course it's not Jason. Jason is dead.

I think the source of the pain is coming from my stomach, but it's so all consuming that it's hard to tell. I reach my hand out gently and touch my stomach. My fingers brush against something hard and cool and comes away sticky. My brain tells me it's a pipe of some kind, but my heart can't understand, can't accept that because it's sticking out of the middle of my body. I let out a small whimper and, as I try to shift off of a rock digging into my back, I moan as the wound from the pipe sends waves of even more pain through my whole body.

"Maggie! I hear you! Where are you?" I hear OA shout. His voice is muffled, but loud and I wonder how he could have hear me. I must be louder than I thought.

I work up some strength to say something, anything, but it takes longer than I think it will which makes me wonder if he will move away too far to hear.

Somehow, I say his name. It's breathy and light, but he hears it and I sigh in relief which causes me to nearly scream as my vision goes dark around the edges and I feel like I may pass out.

"Keep making noise! I'm coming."

He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. I repeat those two words over and over in my head until I believe them. I'm starting to panic as I realize the grave danger I'm in with the wound I have. I can just make out the pipe now as my eyes become more clear and have adjusted to the almost nonexistent light.

I hardly speak the rest of the time, just every once in awhile so OA knows which direction to go. I can hear him moving things and throwing things and I wonder what happened. I can't remember anything about today other than what happened after I woke up here, but I try to put together the pieces.

I'm not sure how long it takes for OA to get close to me, but he talks a lot while he works about nothing of importance. I want to make fun of him for how out of the norm it is for him to be saying so much, but just can't make it happen. I'm getting tired. So tired. I'm cold, too, but the worst is the pain. It doesn't stop, doesn't let up. Unrelenting.

Finally, finally, he seems to be so close, asking how I'm doing. It's getting harder to breathe, but I manage to get something out.

"It's not good," I say weakly. I want to tell him I'm fine, want to say I'm better than he is, but I know that's not true, know it won't do any good.

"I know, but it's okay," he says. "I'll have you out of there soon, alright?"

He speaks with such sureness, I think maybe he does know how I'm doing though I don't know how that's possible. I see a light flash outside what seems to be a slanted wall off to my side and then the light is shining on me. I'm looking at the beam of light thinking it looks so beautiful with the particles of dust dancing in the beam, but then I hear a gasp and know something is wrong.

I look down at my stomach and see it clearly for the first time. I have lost quite a bit of blood, and I can no longer deny that there is actually a pipe sticking out of me. It is gruesome and terrifying. The anxiety and panic of all that has happened begins to weigh on me and it feels like the small area I'm stuck in gets even smaller. I think I might vomit, but I squeeze shut my eyes and breath as deeply as I can without coughing in order to fight off the panic attack.

Suddenly I realize OA has started talking again, talking way too quickly for my brain to register. My hand closes around the pipe and rests on my stomach as I will myself to think about what I know and have seen about injuries similar.

I know that removing the pipe would cause me to bleed out extremely quickly, so that's not an option right now. I know the pipe is too low to have punctured a lung so I must have other injuries that need to be addressed. I'm also still losing blood, but not fast enough that I need to be worried. Yet.

I wonder why OA hasn't moved from his spot so I look around the now space around me that is now aglow. At the same time I take in OA's rant about how there's now way in.

There's no way in. Which also means there's no way out.

Our eyes lock and he stops talking.

"I don't- what do I do?" I ask in a whisper.

I see a flash of something cross his face, but he quickly replaces it with a look of determination. It speaks to the part of me that is most afraid. Part of him, even if just a tiny part, thinks I'm going to die here. Part of me thinks that, too. But I shove that fear inside almost as quickly as he did.

"OA," I say again needing him to say something.

"I can't lift this on my own. It's part of the floor above us and is way too heavy. I have to go find help-"

"No, wait." I want to argue with him, tell him to stay, but I know he has to go find a rescue crew or other people to help him. But the part of me that doesn't want him to go is asking a very real question that I have no answer for.

"What if you can't get to me?" I hate that I'm asking, voice catching in my throat, afraid of the answer. I fight back tears that I can't let myself cry out of fear of never stopping.

I hear movement behind the wall and then the light disappears. I wonder if he already left, fleeing the question that can't be answered. But the light appears again, this time lower down. The space is a little bigger and I can just make out the edges and features of his face. It is so good to see him that I actually smile a little despite the pain and circumstances.

"Mags, listen to me. I don't know how long it's going to take me, I don't know what we will have to do to get you out, but I swear to you, I will. I will be back with help, and we will get you out."

He reaches his hand through the hole and I grab it, holding as tightly as I can, though that doesn't say much.

"You always tell me not to make promises I can't keep," I remind him, trying and failing to tease.

He smiles a little. "It will be easy to keep this promise. Don't doubt it for a second."

We both know no part of this will be easy. Anything could happen. But it's nice of him to say.

He pulls his hand back to his side and stuffs his FBI jacket through the space. "Cover up the best you can, but before you do, I need to know if the pipe is connected to the floor or if it's a separate piece that can be moved. Reach under you and tell me what you can feel."

I lift my side enough to slide my hand under me, trying unsuccessfully not to scream out. Any movement still feels unbearable, hell, not moving at all still feels unbearable, but I do it anyway. My fingers find the pipe and slide down the pipe just a few millimeters until they hit the floor. I squeeze shut my eyes in disappointment unable to confirm with OA that the pipe extends into the floor, knowing just how much harder and more dangerous this whole situation is now.

But it doesn't matter, because OA reads my face. "It's okay, Mags. You are going to be okay. Look at me!" he says when I turn away. I turn my face back to him.

"You are going to be fine. You have to be." He sounds so sure again I can't help but feel like he is probably right. He must be.

I drag his jacket over me the best I can without moving my body.

"I'll be back soon," he says confidently. "Oh, and Mags? If you decide to go and die before I get back, I'll be really pissed. The last thing I want to do is train someone new," he teases.

"Tell me about it," I manage. "I once had to train this guy straight out of Special Forces. Such an asshole. He still thinks he's funnier than me."

He laughs. "Oh, he is."

Our eyes meet again and I know he's about to leave. The thought of being alone like this is almost worse than the pain. Almost.

"Mags? Fight, okay?"

And then he's gone. I hear his feet sliding and slipping on debris until the footsteps fade away leaving me alone.

AN: Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! Meg, Say8486, Fabiana, Doranwen, Luella3132, AilanGurl, jotchLIFE, and guests, you are awesome!

I know this story will push me with research and information, but I was ready to give it a try. It has been so interesting to write thus far. And I know New York isn't a place we typically associate with earthquakes, but they do happen, and I am glad someone posted about it!

I have a huge three day conference this weekend, but will try to have another chapter posted by Sunday! Let me know what you think so far!


	3. Conundrum

I don't know how long it's been since OA left to find help. Ten minutes? An hour? A day? I know it hasn't been that long even though it feels like it, each moment an endless fragment frozen in time, because the sunlight is still visible through small cracks around me.

I'm getting colder. I'm still losing blood and feel it pooling around me. How much blood have I lost? It looks like more than it is, right? I try not to think about it as I do my best to stop the flow despite how much it hurts. Shouldn't I be in shock? Maybe I am. I feel woozy and am having a hard time staying focused.

My eyelids start to droop and I fight to stay awake. I'm not sure how long it will take, but I have to hold on.

OA-

After maneuvering around countless piles of rubble and going down four floors, I'm extremely worried. It has to have been at least another hour and approaching hour two since I've left Maggie. By the time I get to the third floor, I'm desperate. I haven't seen anyone who is in any condition to help us.

I'm about to completely lose my cool when I hear shouting. It sounds like it's coming from below me off to my right. I'm headed in that direction to get to the second flight of stairs in hopes it's not also damaged. I climb over a partially collapsed wall and nearly trip over the unsteadiness of my own feet. As I reach the stairs, I push open the door.

I hear more shouting. It's louder now. I yell for help hoping to be heard. I quiet and listen to see if they heard me. I'm about to shout again when the door to the second level stairwell opens.

"Hello?" a voice calls out, "Fire and Rescue. Can you hear me?"

I nearly cry out of relief because this person can help, but I don't because there is no time.

"Yes!" I say loudly. My voice echoes off the eerily quiet stairwell as I go down the stairs. There's nothing blocking our path, so we meet in the middle.

"My partner, Maggie, is trapped. She fell through the floor onto a pipe and is hurt. It's bad."

"Where is she?" he asks quickly, ready to spring into action.

"Tenth floor on the opposite side of the building by the elevators. We were a level higher when part of it caved under her during the earthquake. Somehow she ended up trapped between a wall and part of the floor. I can't get to her."

I'm speaking to him robotically, and see him thinking, seeing the wheels turn in his mind. It seems like it can't possibly be Maggie in this situation, yet I know it is. I can't help but feel it is all so bizarre.

Finally he nods.

"Okay, I have an idea. I need some equipment and more help. If your partner is trapped, we will need a saw to get to her. We have one, but I'm not sure if it's still being used. Hold on," he says as he grabs a radio out of his large, construction yellow jacket. Fire and Rescue is across the back in large letters.

"Marta, Enrique, can you hear me? What's your status?"

We are trying to get to a room on the fourth floor. There are people inside, but they are trapped. What's up?"

I can hardly make out the woman's words with the noise of a saw ringing out in the background.

"I've stumbled across a man..." he pauses and looks at me waiting for my name.

"OA," I say.

"OA. He needs help. Actually, a woman. She's up on the tenth floor. We need the saw."

"You can have it as soon as we're done," the woman says.

She must not realize the gravity of the situation.

"Maggie can't wait that long!" I say loudly. "She needs help now!"

The man looks at me, still thinking hard.

"Are those people in danger?" he asks.

The woman sighs. "One of the women is pregnant. We have to make sure she's okay. She got hurt and needs medical attention immediately."

I can't listen anymore and start to walk away. Multiple people, one of whom is pregnant and injured? This doesn't bode well for Maggie. I shake my head and run my hand over my face. I hear the man behind me, walking closer.

"OA, I have a plan. Honestly, it's not great, but it's a start. The rest of my team is just below us on the second floor helping a few people. We need to gather them and go up to Maggie. Two members of the team will go meet up with Marta's team and will bring us the saw as soon as they can. Maybe by the time we get there, they will be done with it anyway, or will be able to wait to finish. We will do what we can to help in whatever way we can. We will need you to lead the way."

I don't know what to do other than nod. Well, nod and pray.

Maggie-

I hear noises, lots of noises and am not sure what they are. I think the building is moving. Is that possible? Can buildings move? I almost laugh out as I imagine the tall building growing legs and running off, but the pain prevents it.

I feel funny. Like my head isn't connected to my body anymore. I know I'm here for something important, but can't remember what. I try to sit up, thinking maybe I should turn on the light. Why is it so dark? I can't hardly move and when I do the pain is so much. Why am I hurt? Why is it so dark here?

I can't really get a good breath and can feel my heart beating in my head and chest. It's pounding away. Maybe it will jump right out of my chest. I start to laugh again at the thought, but my laugh turns into a scream. I look down and see the pipe again and am brought back to reality. My brain is so jumbled and I can't keep anything straight. I know blood loss is causing this strange state and it will probably only get worse.

OA. He's here somewhere. I want him to come back. I need to remind myself that he is tying to find help for me. I'm so tired. Maybe I should take a nap. When did my bed get so uncomfortable? I'm not home, I remind myself. I'm stuck and hurt and alone.

OA-

It is taking us too long to get back up to Maggie. We dropped off two people just like was promised. I had been banking on being able to convince them We needed the saw more than they did, but by the time we got there, we discovered the pregnant lady had gone into labor. Of course she had. It seemed like every part of this day was pitted against us, against Maggie, against her survival.

They swore they would hurry and get back to us as soon as possible. We move faster than I did the first time because I knew which way to take and which ways to avoid. Still it took forever.

"I'm Martin, by the way," the man offers, breaking the silence between us. "That's Kaitlyn and Josiah." He points with his thumb to the two following us. I nod briefly making eye contact, but don't say anything, too focused on the task at hand. Honestly, I just wanted to get back to Maggie.

We could me moving even faster, but we are carrying a lot of supplies with us. Kaitlyn and Josiah have a stretcher they are carrying, and we also have medical supplies.

I am slowly losing my mind. We are going as fast as we can, I know that. But it doesn't ease my mind,

doesn't talk down the what-ifs that plague my thoughts. The rest of the climb to the tenth floor is spent in silence.

Maggie-

Another loud noise nearly makes me jump. Why? Why am I here? I hear voices. They are muffled, but close.

"OA?" I try to call out, but I'm breathing too quickly to speak loudly.

Still, he's there. I see him on the ground at that small hole and his hand is reaching through. I slide my hand weakly across the floor until his hand wraps around mine.

"Maggie. How are you?" His voice is matter of fact, and strong, yet seems distant and cold. Like he's afraid I'm already too far gone. Like he's preparing himself for the loss.

I want to make a joke, but I just don't have enough energy. "Fine," I muster.

A light appears at the hole up higher in the wall and I'm confused because OA still hold my hand. I wonder who is there. I hear another deep voice and realize there is another person.

"She's lost a lot of blood," this voice says. "We need to start an IV."

"Her heart is beating so fast."

I think that voice belonged to OA, but I can't keep track anymore. I just want to sleep, but they keep talking, too quiet to make out the words, but the mumbled speech seems way too loud.

"Mags, we are going to give you fluids."

"Needles?" I whisper hesitantly. One of my few fears. Yes, I know it's irrational.

OA laughs. I can tell it's him because it brings back memories of that laugh and images to go with it.

"You have a pipe sticking out of your stomach and you're worried about a needle or two?"

What? I have a pipe in my stomach? The light filtering from the flashlight shines on my stomach. I start to panic. How did I not know that? That's why I'm hurting so much. I start to panic, feeling it down to my bones. I'm moving around, pulling on the pipe and causing excruciating pain, but I can't stop. I can't breathe, can't get myself under control.

Someone is shouting and it takes a few moments to realize it's OA, and he's yelling my name. His hand is squeezing mine tightly.

Slowly I stop fighting and breathe as deeply as I can to fight the panic.

"Maggie, it's going to be okay, it's okay. You're okay."

Our eye lock and I see him nodding at me.

The edges of my vision are dark. It's so dark in general. Can't they turn on the lights? I ask, and can't figure out why OA is laughing at me again. He must see my confusion, because his laughter dies quickly. His face disappears for a moment.

"It's okay," I hear the deep voice say. "She's in hypovolemic shock which causes confusion and disorientation. It's normal for the amount of blood loss she is experiencing. We need to replace some of the blood she's losing. Do you know her blood type?"

OA mumbles some more and then his face reappears.

"Maggie, Martin is going to give you some blood and fluids."

I'm not sure if I actually nod, but I think about it. OA disappears and the man with the deep voice takes his place.

"Hi, Maggie, how are you doing?" I can't find it in me to answer.

"You've found yourself I'm quite a conundrum, haven't you?"

Conundrum. I mouth that word a few times and it feels funny. I smile a little.

"I have some morphine that is going to dull the pain. How's that sound?"

I nod weakly as I feel him grab my arm and extend it completely toward him. He can only reach one a through far enough to get to me, so I do my best to hold still. He pokes me over and over and I start to get frustrated. I feel my heart rate increase even more and want this man to leave me alone. Why is he trying to stab me anyway? Why is OA telling me to let him? The pain, I remember. He's going to take it away.

OA-

Martin mutters something about not being able to find a vein.

"She's too dehydrated."

But he keeps trying. He eventually finds one and starts the blood transfusion. I have to hold the bag as he works on getting a second IV in for the fluids she so desperately needs.

As Martin finishes, he stands and turns toward me.

"I'm going to be honest, it doesn't look good, though I'm sure you already knew that. We need to get her out of there quickly. Before I can say a word,

He's back on his radio asking about the saw.

"We're almost done," says a voice, this time a young man's.

"How long?" Martin asks impatiently.

"Twenty minutes. Maybe more." He sounds sorry, but being sorry doesn't change anything.

"Plus almost an hour to get to us. We only have two units of blood and that's not enough to replace what she is still losing. She might not have that long."

Without realizing what I'm doing, I turn around and slam my fist into the wall. Luckily, this section of wall was drywall rather than concrete. It doesn't do too much damage.

I hear Maggie mutter softly so I lay back down on the floor and look through the hole. I reach through and take her hand.

"It's okay, Maggie. I'm here. You're okay."

"Jason, I'm so glad you're here. Something's wrong," she sputters before she lets out a cough that morphs into a scream as it pulls on her stomach. She moves her hand away from her mouth revealing blood that coats her palm and runs down the side of her face.

That's not good.

"Jason," she huffs, "you've been gone so long."

That's really not good.

AN: Hi to all of you wonderful readers. I am so sorry it has been so long. I know I've been MIA; I was in a pretty bad accident. Everything is okay, but recovery has been a bit of a challenge. Things will be a bit slower than before, but I'll keep writing. This chapter is a lot of back and forth, but hopefully was enjoyable. I did not edit, so I apologize for any mistakes. The next chapter will be better grammatically, I just really wanted to get this posted. I hoping to have another chapter by Thursday, but next weekend might be more realistic.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who are reviewing. Some extra love and encouragement right now would be wonderful!


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